Someone Like Me
by letsgoandgeronimo
Summary: Two-shot. Greg is in the hospital when his mother shows up. He confesses everything to her and then Catherine arrives. When she goes home she has to tell Lindsey about it. This causes memories of Greg to surface in her mind. VERY angsty. NOT a romance.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nothing from CSI is mine. Don't think it is. I am purely using this as a character study.

A/N: Now I know one-shots like this have been done before and I totally understand why you would not want to read this. I just wanted to take a crack at something like this. I think i did an okay job, but that's just my opinion. Review if you want to. I enjoy feeback, but I won't beg for it. This is NOT a romance between Greg and Catherine in case the two characters threw you off. I'd like to think of it as kind of a character study. I may not do it like the others who do character studies; this is just my interpretation. Please don't be mean if you don't like it. Just don't read it. Its actually quite simple. Okay, I am done wasting your time.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Greg Sanders lay hurt and very much alone in his hospital bed, eyes staring blankly at the empty doorway in front of him, Grissom's words still echoing in his ears. _"You tell her you risked your life to save someone else's, and I think she'll be very proud of you."_ But no matter what he said, no matter how much his boss tried to convince him, it wasn't true. This kid was hurt; he may not make it out, all because Greg couldn't sit still, because Greg was impatient. Everyone, including his family, told him it was a vice. But did he listen? No, never once in his life did he listen. Not even a mother could still love a person like that, a person who had attempted murder...

Tears burned the backs of his eyes as he thought of his mother but he quickly squeezed them away. He _wouldn't_ cry. He just wouldn't. He didn't deserve the luxury. Not someone like him after what he did…

Everything hurt... not only physically anymore, that part was bearable, but his heart was heavy as the weight of what he had done dug deeper into not only his heart but his soul. All the morphine in the world couldn't stop that kind of pain.

How long had it been since someone came in to visit him? Hours probably... Maybe even days… There wasn't a clock in his room. And at the minute he didn't feel like watching TV... It was too normal after what had happened. But he didn't blame them. They probably didn't even want to see him. He was sure he wouldn't want to see someone like him.

Why didn't he wait? Why didn't he listen to his gut when it screamed for him to wait for backup? He was just too damn stubborn for his own good. This was all his fault. All his _fault_...

But his thoughts didn't get any deeper than that because a woman appeared in the doorway. "My baby..." she whispered staring wide-eyed at him. "My _God_, my poor baby." His mother, Dianna Hojem-Sanders, ran to her son's bedside. Her messy, haphazard curls bounced as she moved away from the door and quickly towards him. It was still brown with very few streaks of grey and no one would doubt that these two were mother and son. "What happened to you?" she asked, tears in her eyes.

"I was..." he started, not even able to look his mother in the eye. Clearing his throat he continued in a low voice with his eyes still staring adamently at the floor, "I was out at a crime scene."

"Why were you out there?" she asked confused. She thought her son was still in the lab. Why had he never told her? Greg winced knowing that it would have to come down to her actually finding out. _She'll be so disappointed in me... _he thought sadly. _I didn't listen to her when I should have. She's my _mother_, for Christ's sake!_

"I was promoted," he whispered, "into the field. I didn't tell you because I thought you'd be upset..." He closed his eyes and hung his head low in shame, preparing himself for the trademark, "Gregory, I don't know why you didn't listen to me..." But it never came. Instead she gently touched his chin, just like she used to do when he was little, and lifted it to look him in the eye.

"I could never be upset with you, baby," she said back to him. "No matter what." His sad, broken brown eye met his mother's soft hazel ones and he knew she still loved him. But would she be so understanding when she heard all that he had done? To a college kid no less? She gave a small nod, telling him to keep going. She wanted to know how her baby got hurt so badly. He was far more hurt than just what she could see on the outside, but being his mother, she always knew no matter what.

"But how _do_ you know, Mama?" he used to ask when she told him things he didn't understand. "How do you know that's right?"

"A mother knows," she would always reply with a smile.

"I don't get it," he pouted with a confused expression on his small ten-year-old face.

"When you're older, you will," she answered, still with the smile peeking through her pursed lips. "Now go out and play. You need some color, young man." He would just sigh and run outside to ride his bike and she would chuckle softly to herself. A mother does always know... And she knew her only son was hurt beyond what anyone could see.

"There was a mob beating this guy up," he continued tearing her from her pleasant memories and back into the dreadful reality she was living with her boy. "I tried to break it up but one guy stayed. He came at me with a rock and I hit him with my car..." Desperately, he tried to keep the tears that wanted to fall in his eyes but his mother's presence made that extremely hard for him to do. His mind told him to stop saying anything but the look in his mother's eye told him he had to keep talking even as his voice trembled. "They don't know if he's gonna make it... I'm so sorry, Mama," he whimpered. He said it again in Norwegian then fell apart in his mother's arms. All the emotion he had pent up inside himself was released as he sobbed.

His pained cries echoed around the white room and with each sob, he clung tighter to her shirt and buried his bruised face deeper into her shoulder. "Shh..." she whispered in his ear. "It's okay, baby. It's okay." She rocked back and forth gently rubbing circles around his back, letting her own tears fall onto her son's violently shaking body.

Neither of the Sanders saw the blonde woman standing in the doorway, her hand covering her mouth crying silent tears of her own. Catherine Willows never thought that she'd see something like this happen to Greg. Spunky, lively, goofy, Greg Sanders. She had never seen him upset like this, ever. Not even when she had told him it was her fault he was blown up. He just made a joke, laughed and told her it was just an accident. Of course she saw he was having a rough time adjusting when he got out of the hospital. His hands shook when he handed her the results she asked for and she felt guilty. How could she not notice something like that? Even Grissom could see it.

When she asked him about it, he'd tell her it was nothing. It was passing already. Not much longer from then would the bandages be off and he would be back to normal. Catherine said that she would always be around if he wanted to talk about anything, but he just shook his head, said thank you and sent her on her way. Catherine didn't buy it for a minute, but he always hid it. Now it was out in the open for anyone passing the hall to see.

When a case was tough on her or anyone else, he would always be there for a laugh. She would always look forward to getting her DNA evidence because no matter what, he would be blasting his terrible music and doing something stupid, though she would never admit it to anyone else that she was eager to see him. Even when he moved out into the field he said something obnoxious at a crime scene that she would laugh about later when she really stopped to think about what it actually meant.

That was the Greg she knew. Not the man that now lay sobbing in his mother's arms.

When she heard the call over the radio, her heart nearly stopped. She was just getting over the trauma of what happened to Nick nearly two years previous, and Brass getting shot the year after that. Now someone was telling her Greg Sanders was among the victims of the most violent mob she had seen in years? Impossible, it was completely impossible. Their team had already gone through so much. She hands shook as she pulled to the side of the road and took deep breaths to steady herself before going up to the crime scene tape.

When she had gotten there, Greg was lying in a pool of his own blood with Sara leaning over him gently stroking his hair. Sophia told her she was the first responding and that Greg was going to be okay. _Yeah physically_, she thought bitterly. _But what is he going to be like emotionally after an attack like this? He was shaky after an accident that happened in his own lab, but this was a direct attack on him. Was this going to be just like Nicky? He was certainly not okay after what happened to him even though he said he was… _But she was pulled from her thoughts with the sharp chirp of her cell phone.

"Hello?" she had answered slightly monotone, still processing the shock of what she was seeing before her eyes. They were loading Greg carefully into the ambulance with Sara hovering close behind.

"Catherine," Grissom said. "We have a suspect down at PD. I want you to go interview her."

"Okay," she replied. The whole time she interviewed that poor excuse for a woman, her thoughts were on what this mob did to Greg. That's where most of her animosity came from when she spat her sentences and questions at her. Greg was like her surrogate son, older brother to her daughter, Lindsey… _Oh, Linds_… she thought. _She'll be devastated_.

Then her thoughts drifted back to the several times her ex and late husband Eddie had dropped her young daughter off at the lab. Catherine was off to a crime scene and the only person she could get to watch her was Greg inside the lab. He was reluctant at first, most of the time, but when she came back to take her home she could tell he had fun as did she even though he tried to say he didn't. So whenever she was dumped at the lab, she'd ask, "Do I get to see Greg?" Catherine would just nod with a smile and take her to his lab.

Even now as a teenager, Lindsey adored him. Greg was the second person, next to Warrick but that was only because he was there with her at the house, to see her after she was kidnapped a few weeks ago. It was much to her surprise of course that he still talked to her, but because she eavesdropped on their conversation (though she would never tell Greg or Lindsey; they would both slaughter her), she knew they talked almost every other week.

It was kind of sweet he still cared about her and it nearly broke her heart at the thought of her daughter's reaction to his injuries. That was one of the first things she was telling her when she got home. But as his cries got louder she was pulled from all of her memories.

Not being able to just stand there and watch any longer, she moved into the room, the staccato rhythm of her heals not alerting the two to another presence. Her own mothering instincts took over and she sat on his bed and placed her hand softly on his back.

He sniffed and pulled his head up from his mother shoulder. They made eye contact and she whispered, her cheeks visibly wet and her hands trembling, "I'm so sorry, Greg."

"Catherine," he managed to choke out through his sobs, slightly embarrassed she found him like this.

"It's okay," she whispered taking a hold of his good hand.

He nodded, his voice no longer working. Not even caring she was there anymore, he continued to cry, both in his mother's and Catherine's arms. The former didn't care either that she was there, knowing, after their previous visit nearly four years before, she cared very much for her son and she was a mother herself. Greg thought Catherine was like his second mother.

So both women sat there, holding and comforting a shaking Greg, not knowing what else to do to help him, Catherine still crying along with him.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

So that was majorly angsty. I hope you liked it. If you did, pop down in the review box. If not pop down in there and tell me why. Just don't be nasty about it. Thanks for reading! ;)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine. I don't own CSI.

A/N: Okay, so I had every intention that this would be a one-shot but then this little plot came upon me thanks to one of my few reviewers and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. So I did and decided to post it. Review if you want to. Don't feel obligated though. ;D

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Catherine shuffled through her front door hours later, so much later in fact that night had fallen and she expected her daughter to be asleep. To say she had tried to plan it that way would be an understatement. She made sure that it was far too late for her Lindsey to be awake. However she didn't consider one huge factor: the stubbornness of a teenage girl.

Lindsey turned down the television set, set the remote down and approached her mother. "Mom, I thought you were coming home hours ago. What happened?" Catherine had called her daughter before she had entered the hospital telling her she was going to make one last quick stop and then be headed home. That was before she saw Greg.

"I got held up," Catherine mumbled and she regretted it immediately from the suspicious look that crossed her daughter's face.

"What do you mean?" she questioned.

_Well,_ Catherine thought_ I might as well._ "Linds," she began slowly. "Do you and Greg still talk?" She figured her daughter wouldn't be very receptive if she knew she had listened in on their private conversation weeks before.

"Yeah," she answered, not quite understanding why her mother was asking. "I mean he calls me and we talk but-" Suddenly she stopped mid sentence and paled. "Why? What happened? Is he okay? Is he hurt? How did it happen? Is he gonna be okay?" She fired off questions so fast her mother had no time in between to answer any of them. When she finally relented with her endless stream, her mother began.

"Greg…" But Catherine found she couldn't explain it correctly starting there. "There's been a group of people running around the streets assaulting tourists. The first man was killed and the woman is in the hospital. We had reason to think that they had robbed a liquor store and Grissom sent Greg to the scene… Apparently as he was on his way, he accidently drove into an assault in progress. He tried to break the mob up but they dragged him out of his car and assaulted him too…" By this time Lindsey had sunk back into her spot on the couch, paling further with every word her mother spoke.

In the dark, Catherine couldn't tell if she had tears in her eyes, but her voice was strong when she asked her mother another question. "Is he gonna be okay? How bad his he hurt?"

"He's beat up pretty bad," Catherine answered with a wince, "but the doctors say he's gonna make a full recovery."

The next thing her daughter said didn't surprise her in the least. "I want to see him." She stood with a purpose and faced her mother with a stony expression. "I want to see him," she repeated. Catherine's shoulders sagged.

"Go get dressed," she said weakly. Lindsey blinked in surprise. She hadn't expected her mother to give in that easily, but she wasn't about to argue.

"Thanks, Mom," she said softly turning to go back to her room to do as her mother told her. As she did, memories of Greg seemed to flood her mind. The first time she had met him was at the top of the list.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

"Mommy!" the five-year-old Lindsey shouted as she jumped into her mother's open arms.

"Hey baby!" Catherine replied picking her up off the floor. Her ex-husband had dropped her off at Catherine's work because he had to work and Lindsey wasn't allowed to come. Catherine was slightly pissed off at Eddie because she had a scene to go to and nowhere to take or keep Lindsey. Well… not _nowhere_… but he wouldn't be happy at all.

"No." It was simply. One word. Two letters. Yet not the word Catherine wanted to hear.

"Greg, please?" Catherine begged. "I've got nowhere else to take her and no one else to watch her. Please?"

"No, Catherine," Greg replied raking a hand through his organized mess of hair. "I'm backed up and I don't do kids…" He eyed the young blonde girl sitting just outside his lab, twirling a longer strand of her hair through her fingers. She was kind of adorable… No! He couldn't play babysitter.

"What do you mean 'you don't do kids'?" Catherine asked.

"I mean I can't handle little five-year-old terrors running around my lab compromising all of your guys' evidence!" he replied. He expected her to reply, "We let you in here," but she didn't do so.

Instead, she answered, "She's not a little terror. She'll do exactly what you tell her. Please, Greg?"

Greg gave a reluctant sigh, rolled his eyes and nodded his head.

He didn't expect Catherine to hug him in excitement, but she did and replied, "Thank you. You are a life saver. I promise I will make this up to you somehow." And she went outside and took the little girl by the hand and led her into his lab. "Lindsey, this is Greg," Catherine said to her daughter. "Greg, this is my daughter. Lindsey."

Greg decided it would be good to get down to Lindsey's level so he squatted in front of the girl. "Hey, squirt," he said with a smile. "I guess you're gonna be hanging out with me." She gave a shy nod and Catherine smiled.

"Is that okay?" she asked. Again the little girl nodded and Catherine bent down. She gave her several kisses and then said, "I'll be back in a few hours. You be good okay?" Lindsey nodded one last time and her mother focused on Greg. "If you need anything you have my number." She then stood up and walked out of the lab.

"Looks like it's just us now, pal" Greg said.

"What is that?" she asked, pointing to a large machine right next to Greg.

"Well that," he said picking her up and sitting her on his chair, "is a GCMS. I can put something in there and it can tell me exactly what it's made of. I was just about to put something in there. You want to help me?" She nodded excitedly and he could help but grin. All right, this might not be _totally_ awful.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

"I'm done, Mom," Lindsey said coming back into the living room. She was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans with her converse sneakers tightly tied. Catherine nodded and she followed her daughter outside to the car.

As her mom followed her, Lindsey started to think about the day her father passed and wondered if her mother knew just how helpful Greg was to her that day…

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Sara walked solemnly into Greg's lab holding hands with the now nine-year-old Lindsey. Just about two hours ago, Catherine had found her daughter in a sinking car with her ex-husband missing from it. Sara had the feeling they wouldn't be finding Eddie alive, but she was needed elsewhere, not at the lab babysitting Catherine's daughter. She remembered that Catherine had told her Greg would watch her if she needed and that's what she was doing now.

"Greg," Sara said gesturing to Lindsey, who had a distant look on her face. "Catherine said you would watch her if I needed to work."

Greg looked up from whatever sample he was processing and nodded. "Yeah, sure." He set down the tools he was using and took off his latex gloves. He held out his hand for her to take and said softly, "Hey, squirt." She let go of Sara's hand and took Greg's in her own. Sara took that as her cue to leave, so she exited the lab with as little noise as possible.

Lindsey dropped Greg's hand and moved without any explanation to the opposite side of the lab. She sat down, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Greg debated internally on whether or not he should go and speak with her and finally his will to stay away failed.

He finished with whatever sample he was working on before and five minutes later he was sitting across from her in the same position with his knees up to his chest. "Hey, pal," he said quietly. "How are you doing?"

She didn't answer for a moment, then asked, "You know everything that goes on around here right?"

Greg shrugged his shoulders. "More or less."

"Is my dad dead?" Greg should have been expecting this but it caught him almost off guard. His mouth hung open for a second or two, but then he caught himself.

He swallowed and said in a soft voice, "If I knew I would tell you sweetie, but I don't."

Lindsey sighed and said, "I just know he is. I can feel it." A tear fell down her face and she wiped it away and sniffed angrily. "I can't cry," she told Greg, answering his unasked question. "I have to be strong for my mom."

"Well, why?" Greg wondered.

"Because she's being strong for me," Lindsey answered.

Greg sat cross-legged on the floor and held out his arms. "Come here, pal," he said. "Come here. I want to tell you something." She crawled into his lap and stared at him. "When I was your age," he began, "I was really close with my uncle and he went to bed one night and the next morning… he didn't wake up. He had a heart attack in his sleep and there was nothing we could do. I thought that I would have to be strong for my parents, but my dad told me something. Do you want to know what it is?" Lindsey nodded her head. "He told me that the kid doesn't have to be strong for the parents and that's not the way it's supposed to work." He gently tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and continued. "It's okay to cry for your dad, Lindsey. You don't have to be strong for anyone but yourself. I won't tell anyone."

"Not even my mom?" she asked in a small voice.

"Not if you don't want me to," he answered. And that seemed to break the dam. She buried her face in Greg's chest and clutched his shirt tightly in her fists. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbed her back, and cradled her close whispering, "Its gonna be okay, pal. Everything's gonna be fine."

When she finally stopped crying, she didn't pull away. Rather, she didn't move for a good ten minutes after that. When she did pull away she said, "You can tell my mom, if she asks."

"Okay," Greg whispered.

"Don't you have to work?" she asked.

"Yeah," Greg nodded.

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Of course." Before, in the few times that she had hung out at the lab, there were times where she would be very tired, but not want to sleep. Greg would allow her to sit on his lap as he worked and lay her head on his shoulder. It wasn't hindering and it would eventually get her to go to sleep. So Greg picked her up, walked over to his chair and sat down. She wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder.

"It's okay, sweetie," he repeated. "Everything's gonna be fine."

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

In fact, Catherine did know just how much Greg had helped her daughter that day. She had spoken to him when she went to pick Lindsey up to bring her home.

It was a far more serious conversation than what she would normally have with Greg, but she remembered it as if was only yesterday.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

"Hey, baby," Catherine said s she entered the DNA lab. As she had a few time before, she found Lindsey on Greg's lap as he worked around her. Lindsey looked up to her mother and Catherine smiled. "Can you go wait in the hall? I need to talk to Greg for a minute." She girl nodded and slid off of Greg's lap with a little help from the technician.

The glass door closed behind her and Catherine just watched as she sat cross legged just beyond the glass. To Greg, Catherine seemed distant, unfocused. "Hey, Catherine?" he asked, and it was like she had been shocked out of her trance. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah I'm fine," she answered, obviously lying.

"They found Eddie's body, didn't they?" Greg inferred.

Catherine bit her lip and nodded her head. "Yeah, they did. I just came from the morgue…"

"I'm sorry, Catherine," he replied sadly.

"And now I have to tell Lindsey she'll never talk to her dad again," she said, mostly to herself.

"I'm pretty sure she already knew," Greg told her. "She said she could feel that he wasn't coming back." Catherine's eyes traveled back to her daughter's figure and Greg decided that now would be as good a time as any to tell her about what had happened. "She seems to be under the impression that she can't cry for him."

Catherine's head whipped around and she almost sounded accusatory. "Why? What did she say?"

Greg sighed. "Well, she told me that she had to be strong for you because that's what you're doing for her…" She lightly covered her mouth and stared at Lindsey. "Catherine, when something like this happens to a family… Not crying… it makes you jaded. Crying doesn't make you seem weak. It just makes you human. And I think you should let her know that she can cry for her father because the hurt that she feels just means that she loved him."

Catherine turned back to Greg astounded that the young man could know so much about something she knew very little about. She laid a hand gently on his cheek and said with almost a smile, "You're a good kid."

"I'm gonna ignore that you called me a kid and just say thank you," Greg said.

"I didn't know you could be so serious," Catherine said, taking away her hand.

"You learn something new every day," Greg shrugged.

She was about to say something else, but then decided against it. "Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me," Greg said seriously. "I'll always be around if you two need me."

Catherine gave a small chuckle. "So much for not being good with kids."

Greg smiled. "Go ahead and go home Catherine." She nodded and with one last glance behind her left his lab to go home.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Lindsey twisted her finger nervously as her mother started the car. She had no idea how far Desert Palm was from her house but she knew it wasn't close. Her eyes scanned the scenery that flashed by the windows as the lights glittered in the darkness. She wasn't fond of the dark, but she wasn't scared by it.

She saw one lonely person on the side of the road with his thumb out and she was hit by a sudden flashback.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Lindsey crossed her arms tightly across her chest, so tightly that one looking in would think that she would be unlikely to unwind for several years. Greg was the one looking in just outside the entrance to the lab. He had heard Catherine yelling at her daughter moments before about trying to hitch a ride to Freemont Street. When he saw Lindsey stalk out of the room where she was being yelled at, he had an idea, one that just might work without scaring the girl so he followed her out and waited a few minutes for her to attempt to cool down.

"Lindsey," he called as he walked up to her. She turned and scowled the teenage trademark scowl. He remembered using it many a time on his own parents.

"What?" she spat. "Coming to ring me out too? Well save it because I already got enough from my mother."

"I didn't come to ring you out," Greg stated pulling a strip of paper from his pocket. "Here." He handed it to her.

She looked at it with a confused expression then asked with venom, "What is this?"

"You know, most teenagers would recognize a phone number when they saw it," Greg replied smartly. She clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes. "It's my phone number," he said. "If you feel like no one's listening or the only way to get their attention is by thumbing rides to Freemont Street, give me a call. There's always someone to listen, Lindsey. You just have to look. See you later."

She looked back down at the small slip of paper as Greg walked away. She seemed to be debating in her head and losing miserably. "Greg," she called back. He turned and raised his eyebrows. "Thanks. How mad do you think she is?"

"Your mom?" he asked. She nodded. "She looked pretty pissed to me. I haven't seen her that angry in a long time." Lindsey looked like she was chewing on her tongue and trying to digest what Greg had. Greg sighed and kneeled down in front of her. "Look, Linds, I know you lost your dad, but acting out isn't gonna bring him back."

"She's never there," Lindsey said. "At least Dad was there. She isn't."

Greg sighed. "You're mom knows that and she regrets it. But you have to understand she's doing the best she can under the circumstances. There's only so much she can do and she's under a lot of stress. So you might want to try and make it a little easier for her. A good teenager is easier to handle than a bad one."

"I guess I could… try and… be better behaved," Lindsey said grudgingly. But she said it none the less.

"Okay," Greg said. "I know your mom loves you very much. And she's just trying to keep you safe. She's seen a lot more than you could imagine and she doesn't want you to get hurt."

A call of "Lindsey!" sounded behind them and the girl said, "That's my nana. I have to go."

"Okay," Greg said. "I'll see you around, squirt."

And he started to walk inside, though before he did he heard behind him, "I hate it when you call me that," and he couldn't help but smile.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

The hospital was closer than Lindsey thought. It only took about twenty minutes to get there and there wasn't particularly much traffic. She should always drive around at night. It was so peaceful.

Her mom pulled into a vacant parking spot outside of the hospital. It wasn't hard to find one. Visiting hours were supposed to be over, but having her mom working as a CSI had its perks. It didn't matter if they were family or not, though she felt like he should have been.

Especially after the night after she was kidnapped. She didn't expect him to come and see her at the hospital.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

Lindsey looked up from her starchy bed sheets (seriously, did they think they were making them more comfortable?) when she heard a soft knock at the door. She saw Greg poke his head in and she smiled. "Greg! What are you doing here?"

He asked, "You feeling up to a visitor?"

"Yeah, totally," she replied. He walked in but left the door open behind him. It wasn't a private conversation after all. "How did you know?" Lindsey wondered.

"Well, I work at the crime lab," Greg said. "And with your mother. You hear things." Lindsey gave a shrug and a nod. Then Greg asked, "So how are you doing?"

"Fine," she replied. "A little shaken, obviously, but not hurt."

"You sure?" Greg asked.

"You work at the crime lab," Lindsey repeated and he chuckled.

"Good point," Greg replied. "Thanks. So how's it going?"

"Let's see…" she said thinking. This happened every time he called (about twice a month just to make sure she was doing okay and occasionally she would see him when she had to come to the lab to talk to her mother) and she would tell him what was new in the teenage world of Lindsey Willows. "I got a B on my Spanish test. I broke up with Mark. He was a loser," she explained upon seeing Greg's eyebrows rise. "Jamie got onto the dance team with me, so I was excited about that. And I got a solo for the recital."

"You did?" he asked excitedly. "Lindsey, that's great! That's wonderful."

"Thanks," she said shyly. "You're coming to this one, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it," he replied. "Especially after I missed the last one."

"Eh, that's okay," she said. "Mom went, so it's all good." Greg's phone chirped signaling that he had a text message. Upon examining it, he found he had a scene. Greg gave a groan mixed with almost a sigh. "And you have to work," Lindsey said, seeing the look on his face. Her mother wore that look a lot, but that was okay. Lindsey realized that she really was doing the best she could and she wouldn't give her too hard a time about it. And it was just nice that he even thought about coming to see her, even if they did have to cut it short.

"Sorry, squirt," Greg said with a sad smile.

"I hate it when you call me that," Lindsey said.

"Well, you'll always be the tiny, shy, blonde five-year-old I had to babysit in the lab to me," Greg said and Lindsey smiled.

"And you'll always be the dorky yet somehow cool dude with spiky hair who listens to bad rock and roll music to me," she retorted.

He laughed and gave her an affectionate pat on the head. "See you later, pal."

"Bye, Greg," she said softly as he exited the hospital room. "And you'll always be my big brother," she whispered to herself after he was gone.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

It didn't take long for Lindsey to be just outside of Greg's room. "I'll wait out here for you," Catherine said quietly. Lindsey nodded and tried to prepare herself for what she might see.

But she couldn't be prepared for what she did see. She even had to stifle a gasp. Every inch of his face was a different shade of purple. "H-hey," she said tentatively. Greg opened only one eye. It appeared the other was swollen shut.

"Lindsey," Greg mumbled, unable to open his mouth very wide. "What are you doing here?" he asked sadly.

"Well I came to see you," she said moving closer to his bedside. There was a vacant chair that his mother had previously occupied. She wasn't there now so Lindsey took that spot.

"How did you find out?" he asked, though as soon as he said it he realized it was a stupid question. Catherine was her mother. She probably went home right after and Lindsey begged until she was allowed to go. He shook his head telling her not to answer. "What I meant was: why are you here?"

"I already told you," she said gently placing her hand on top of his. "I came to see you."

"You didn't have to…" he began but she cut him off.

"I know," she said. "But you came to see me." "Thanks, Linds," he said softly with a small smile. His eye flicked up and he looked behind her.

Lindsey turned around and saw the older woman that Greg was looking at. "Is that your mom?" she asked. The woman was talking to her mother and smiled.

"Yeah," Greg replied.

"She's pretty," Lindsey remarked. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nah," he replied. "Only child. 'S why my mom is so protective." Lindsey nodded. "You should go," he said. "It's late and you have school tomorrow."

She smiled and shook nodded. "You're probably right. I'll, uh, come and see you soon, okay?"

"Okay," he replied softly. She stood to walk out, but stopped and turned around. He quirked his eyebrows curiously.

"Just so you know, and I know it sounds cliché and stupid but, you're like my brother," she said. "My goofy, dorky, knows exactly what he talking about and tells it like it is older brother."

"Come here, pal," he said. When she reached him he pulled her into a hug and it didn't seem to hurt him. "I love you, squirt, you know that right?"

"Yeah," she replied in his ear. "I love you too." She pulled away and said, "And I hate it when you call me that."

He laughed. To Lindsey, it sounded oddly like a watery chuckle, but she couldn't tell. "See you later, pal."

"Bye, Greg," she whispered and existed his hospital room, fully intent on coming back the next morning.

~CSI~CSI~CSI~

A/N: Okay, so that was way longer than I thought it would be… Interesting considering I had no intention of making a second chapter. Review if you want to.


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